


The Ivory Tower

by tinydooms



Series: We Three Together [5]
Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: Archaeology, Budding Romance, F/M, Friendship, Gen, camel races, handsome men being incredibly goofy, lady archaeologists, stolen objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydooms/pseuds/tinydooms
Summary: That was how it went, the entire time they were in Hamunaptra. It had been so long since she felt joy, not since before Jonathan came home from the War a shattered ghost, not since her parents’ deaths two years ago. But now, Evie was happier than she could remember being, despite snide comments from the Americans and their crew (Dr. Carmichael especially). And Rick O’Connell was at her side, always, and it was the strangest thing. She had thought, back in the little village after the barge sank, that the odd look he had given her was one of masculine amusement at her girlish enthusiasm. She had never imagined that he could actually be interested in all this.
Relationships: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell
Series: We Three Together [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714483
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	The Ivory Tower

**The Ivory Tower**

_The Eastern Desert and Hamunaptra, October 1922_

Evie dozed in the saddle, swaying in rhythm with her camel’s walk. It was dark and cold, and above them the stars sprawled across the heavens, but Evie was fairly comfortable, wrapped in a blanket with her scarf about her hair. O’Connell had only let them camp for a few hours that night, and they hadn’t put the tents up, merely wrapped themselves in blankets and dozed until he woke them at one o’clock to keep riding. He had said something about making it to Hamunaptra by sunrise, but hadn’t said why. He seemed, if not eager to reach the City of the Dead, then at least set on getting there as quickly as possible, and he had yet to say anything disparaging about the quest. 

In any case, Evie was glad to be riding at night, sheltered from the relentless sun. She was glad of the headscarf the village women had given her; it kept the worst of the sun and sand out of her face and served as an extra layer against the desert cold. She was glad of their guide, too. Rick O’Connell knew his business well, and so far he had been nothing but polite, leading them through the desert by day and setting up camp with quiet efficiency at night, even cooking meals for them over the campfire.

He was also captivating to watch in the saddle. O’Connell had what her mother would have called a “splendid physique” and Evie, riding just behind him in their little caravan, had so far enjoyed the view very much. 

A grunt from one of the camels brought Evie to wakefulness. She stretched in the saddle, looking around. The stars were beginning to fade and the sun tinted the horizon behind them. O’Connell glanced over his shoulder at her. He twitched a smile at her, the one that Evie found so attractive. 

“You okay?”

“Yes,” Evie said, smothering a yawn. “Are we almost there?”

“Pretty close,” O’Connell said. 

He gestured at the plain that stretched out before them, but before he could say anything else, movement caught their eyes. A lot of movement. Blinking the rest of the sleep from her eyes, Evie saw a group approaching: men on horseback, and camelback, and donkey back. What on earth--

“Oh no,” she murmured. 

“Good morning, my friend,” called the weasley man who had taunted O’Connell on the riverbank. Beni, she recalled his name as. 

O’Connell didn’t say anything, merely shook his head, and Evie realized that this was why he had made them get up in the middle of the night, to beat the American team and secure their claim over the dig site. How wonderfully kind of him! She looked at O’Connell as he pulled his camel to a stop, but still he didn’t speak. 

“Remember our bet, O’Connell,” one of the Americans--was it Mr. Henderson? Evie had only met him once--called out around a wad of either bread or chewing tobacco. “First one to the city. Five hundred cash bucks!”

Evie looked at O’Connell again, surprised and a little disappointed. So he had moved them so quickly to win a bet? He didn’t seem like the kind to gamble, and she wondered if he even had five hundred cash dollars to his name. It had seemed, when they met, that his only money was the ten pounds she had given him back in Cairo. But he was a curious man, full of surprises, and she didn’t really _know_ him. O’Connell just shook his head again. He seemed to be largely ignoring the other men as they continued to rib him over the bet and the state of his camel (poor, adorable creature), looking out across the plain towards the horizon. 

“Get ready for it,” he said at last, his voice low. 

“For what?”

“We’re about to be shown the way.”

Evie looked back out into the rapidly brightening dawn. Behind them the sun was rising, spilling over the hills and dunes behind them and spreading across the plain. The air seemed to ripple, turning gold in the rising light, and then it solidified and resolved itself into a great rounded circle of half-ruined walls. Sunlight glinted off something gold within. The Americans exclaimed among themselves. 

“Here we go again,” O’Connell murmured, ruefully.

And with shouts, the men were off, whipping camels and horses into furious gallops. O’Connell’s camel leaped forward and roared off across the plain, neck and neck with Beni. 

“Gie! Gie!” Evie cried, kicking her own steed, unwilling to be left behind. “Hut, hut, hut!”

Startled, the camel sprang forward and hurtled across the sand, snorting. Tapping it with her riding crop, Evie urged it forward, bobbing up and down in the saddle. Just ahead O’Connell and Beni were neck and neck, the odious little man whipping his crop across O’Connell’s shoulders, laughing as O’Connell screeched at him. The horrid little brute! Evie urged her mount faster, hoping to get between them; surely Beni wouldn’t dare to hit a woman. She didn’t find out; O’Connell reached out and, grabbing Beni by the coat, dragged him off of the camel and flung him to the ground. 

“And that serves you right!” Evie shouted as she galloped by. 

It was just the two of them, then, far ahead of the others, running flat out towards the City of the Dead. Evie pulled up alongside O’Connell and flashed him a happy grin. Exhilaration filled her, her hair flying in the wind, her camel running full tilt. This was living! O’Connell looked surprised, but he grinned back at her, and didn’t try to beat her as she passed ahead of him and guided her camel down the plain towards Hamunaptra. Evie laughed, delighted. She _did_ like O’Connell. Somewhere behind her, Jonathan was whooping. 

“Go, Evie! Go!”

Walls rose up before her and Evie guided her camel around them, down the path and then up, up into the lost city. She whooped aloud, joy filling her, smiling so hard her face hurt. Letting her camel slow to a walk, Evie looked back over her shoulder at O’Connell, coming up behind her. He cheered, saluting her with his riding crop. He looked, Evie thought with some surprise, genuinely delighted.

“Well done!” he called. “You beat ‘em by a mile!”

Evie laughed, joy filling her. “I wanted to be the first. Women so rarely get to be first at anything, and I’m the only one here.”

O’Connell grinned again and slid down from his camel, taking her reins. He reached up a hand to help her down. “Well, congratulations, Evelyn, and welcome to Hamunaptra. You’ve just won five hundred bucks.”

Evelyn laughed again. “We’ll see if they meant it.”

“They did,” O’Connell said, but Evie was already looking around, climbing the slope to get a better view of the ruins. 

It was a huge place, all half-tumbled walls and partially-collapsed doorways and ancient statuary half-buried in sand. Soon it would be filled with diggers and men shouting, but for several long moments as Evie stood there, she was alone in this miraculous place, alone with history. For a moment, Hamunaptra was hers, and she was about to become a real archaeologist. She rested her hand on a pillar and smiled. 

“What do you think?” O’Connell asked, and he sounded genuinely curious. 

“It’s wonderful,” Evie said, smiling around at him. “It’s everything I wanted. Thank you for bringing me here.”

O’Connell gave her that sideways grin again. He looked pleased. The rest of the men arrived then, and they turned away from contemplating the ruins to setting up camp. Evie let O’Connell take the lead with that and wandered away on her own, looking around. According to the Bembridge Scholars, the Golden Book of Amun-Ra was said to be buried at the base of Anubis, and so it was Anubis that she looked for. She found him quite easily, buried to the waist, his noble features weathered by millenia of sun and sand. 

“Hello, old boy,” she said, patting his arm. “Let’s see about finding your feet, shall we?”

At length Jonathan and O’Connell and Warden Hassan joined her, carrying ropes and shovels. By that time Evie had found two silver mirrors sticking up out of the sand, and a hole in the ground partially covered by rubble, which seemed to lead down into a cavern of some sort. Evie directed Jonathan to polish one of the mirrors while she took the other and O’Connell began to fix ropes to pillars. The Warden stood watching, but she didn’t mind. Better to have him not touching anything than to have an accident touching something he shouldn’t. 

“So what are these old mirrors for?” O’Connell asked, coming over to her. 

“Ancient mirrors,” Evie corrected, rubbing her cloth over the silver. “It’s an ancient Egyptian trick; you’ll see.”

“Oh. Uh.” O’Connell held his hand out. In it was a leather roll bound with straps. “Here, this is, uh, this is for you.”

Evie looked up at him, surprised, taking it. What on earth?

“Go ahead,” O’Connell said and bobbed awkwardly. “It’s something I, uh, borrowed off of our American brethren; I figured you might like it--might need it for when you’re, uh, down there…” he trailed off, clearly embarrassed, and walked away. Evelyn stared after him, then looked down at the leather kit, her heart beginning to jump. She unwound the leather strap. If this was what she thought it was…

It _was_. A beautiful leather toolkit stuffed absolutely full of everything an excavator could possibly need. The tools were of a very high quality with fine bone handles. Evie felt a smile stretching over her face. She looked up to thank O’Connell, only in time to see him take the rope in his hands and climb down into the hole. 

And that was how it went, the entire time they were in Hamunaptra. It had been so long since she felt joy, not since before Jonathan came home from the War a shattered ghost, not since her parents’ deaths two years ago. But now, Evie was happier than she could remember being, despite snide comments from the Americans and their crew (Dr. Carmichael especially). And Rick O’Connell was at her side, always, and it was the strangest thing. She had thought, back in the little village after the barge sank, that the odd look he had given her was one of masculine amusement at her girlish enthusiasm. She had never imagined that he could actually be _interested_ in all this. O’Connell had all the makings of an excellent field archaeologist--strength and care and surprisingly gentle hands when handling artifacts--and he actually _listened_ when Evie talked, and asked questions about it. It was wonderful to have such a rapt audience, and Evie forgot her initial reservations and waxed eloquent. _This_ was how mummification worked, and _this_ was why there were so many antechambers in a tomb, and _this_ was why one needed to have tools and supplies buried with them, and _this_ was how the heart was weighed in the Afterlife...O’Connell listened, and he asked questions, and his eyes were bright and interested. He was the first man who had ever really _listened_ to Evie. It was very flattering. 

(He also brought Mr. Henderson over to her that first day and stood over him while he counted out five hundred dollars and handed it over. “See,” O’Connell said cheerfully as the American walked away. “He meant it.”)

The hidden sarcophagus startled all of them, but what a coup! True, the Warden’s death delayed their exploration of it, and then the desert peoples’ attack took her mind off it for the rest of the evening, but this was a career-making discovery! No one had ever discovered a locked sarcophagus before. Evie drank that evening partly to take her mind off the day’s misfortunes and partly to celebrate. Evie knew that she was a cheap drunk; she never really imbibed much beyond a glass or two of wine or a cocktail once in a while, and so she fell asleep quite quickly, and woke up tucked into the cot that O’Connell had found for her, warm and comfortable despite the cool morning air on her face. Funny, she didn’t remember putting herself to bed, much less snuggling in this comfortably. 

“Good morning,” O’Connell said. 

He was crouched before the campfire, stirring scrambled eggs in a pan. 

“Good morning,” Evie said, snug in her bed. 

“How’s your head?”

Evie blinked. “Fine, thank you. Should it not be?”

A funny look passed over O’Connell’s face, his eyebrows rising. “I kinda thought you’d have a raging hangover.”

“Really?” Evie was startled. “Surely I wasn’t _that_ drunk.”

O’Connell’s eyebrows climbed higher, if that was possible. “What do you remember?”

Evie thought about it. “I remember you teaching me to box, and then I went to bed. Didn’t I?”

A rueful look passed over O’Connell’s face and he handed her a plateful of eggs and fried bread. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

“Oh dear.” Evie looked up at him. “I hope I didn’t say anything untoward.”

“No,” O’Connell reassured her. “You didn’t.”

He stuck close to her again that day, asking questions and helping to open the sarcophagus. He was the one who noticed the scratches on the cover of the mummy case, and who asked, later, about the _hom dai_. O’Connell was at her side, almost touching, when Evie opened the black Book of the Dead and read out the incantation. And he held her hand as they ran away from the swarm of locusts, as they raced through the tomb away from the scarabs, as he pulled her away from the walking, talking corpse that she had unwittingly unleashed. And hers was the first camel he saddled as they prepared to flee. As though she meant something to him. As though he cared about her. 

So of course it was absolutely infuriating that the first thing he wanted to do on their return to Cairo was leave. 

  
  


Author's Note: this story is being ret-conned into the series, largely because I felt there wasn't enough Evie at Hamunaptra. The Ivory Tower of the title isn't a tarot card, but a reference to the academic ivory tower, i.e. the stereotype that scholars like Evie don't have any real world experience. Evie is coming out of her ivory tower. A special shout-out, too, to @sweetfayetanner for the extra beta! Thank you for reading! I hope you like the story! Please let me know what you think in the comments. 


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